Toxic Game (GhostWalkers #15) - Christine Feehan Page 0,15

do. Breathe for me. Take a breath. She wasn’t about to lose him. She listened a second time, checked his pulse, breathed for him. For both of them. All the while she listened for sounds of the MSS, just in case they had leapt into their boats and tried to sweep both sides of the river for his body.

There was a wound on his temple. She had given it a cursory examination. The bullet had shaved skin off his head, probably knocked him unconscious, or when he dove, he’d hit a rock. Either way, he’d lost consciousness in the river and his lungs were full of water. She wasn’t letting him drown. When she brushed the blood from the side of his temple, more welled up and her heart leapt. Beneath her hand he stirred. Coughed. Water bubbled up. She turned him onto his side and he coughed again, more water draining from his lungs.

She turned her head toward the river, listening for the sound of the angry terrorists hunting them. Without warning, a giant hand wrapped around her throat and she was slammed down into the dirt. The GhostWalker rose above her, his face a mask of fury.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Her heart accelerated to the point where she thought it might explode. He was so strong there was no breaking his hold. She caught at his wrist, but it felt like she wrapped her fingers around steel. There was no talking. No way words could escape from that grip. He turned his head away and coughed more. He spat water and looked toward the river, clearly listening for the enemy.

He’d been dead. Well, he would have been dead had she not given him CPR, yet he had come out of it fully cognizant. Completely aware.

He turned his head back toward her and those dark, navy-colored eyes bore down into hers. She stayed very still, trying to keep her body relaxed. If she didn’t tense up, it was possible he would relax his grip and she’d be able to break free. She wasn’t certain that would do much good; she’d seen him run and he was the fastest she’d ever seen.

“Did you give me CPR?” It was a demand.

She tried to nod. His lashes swept down for a brief moment, and she saw despair etched deeply into his face. Her heart ceased to beat and then began to pound as sudden knowledge filled her. She knew he was infected. She didn’t know how, but it was that look on his face. The way his hold on her throat gentled. He shook his head and moved back away from her.

“We have to get out of here.” His voice was a mere whisper of sound.

“You’ve been exposed to the virus, haven’t you?” Now her heart was wild. Out of control. She was terrified. She’d seen the horrific way the men and women had died. She knew, but she still needed his confirmation.

He caught her hand and rose, pulling her with him. Her arms and legs suddenly felt like spaghetti. There was a strange roaring in her head. Chaos reigned in her brain. She began to hyperventilate. The virus. He was infected with the virus and she’d put her mouth over his and breathed into his lungs. Her fingers had wiped at the blood on his temple. She had his blood on her at that very moment.

His fingers tightened around her upper arm. “We have to move. Right now.”

The urgency in his voice caught at her. She was an elite, highly trained soldier. It didn’t matter if the worst had happened; she would deal with it later. She straightened her spine, looked into those eyes of his and nodded.

Her reward was instant. His expression softened, and he gave her a quick nod of approval and then began to jog, still holding her arm, forcing her to go with him down the embankment.

What are you doing? They’re going to be on the river in boats. Without thinking she went to telepathy because the women she’d trained with all could speak mind to mind.

They’ll be expecting us on this side. We’re going back in and crossing to the other side. There was a place where the forest came right down to the edge of the water. We’ll cross there so they won’t be able to track us.

She hadn’t expected the intimacy of his voice in her head. It had a smoothness to it that gave way now and then to gravel. The